A beautiful story of Natasha and David.
Where they become Enemies-to-Lovers... from hating each other to the core.. to loving each other and protecting from their past...
What do you think will they become one?
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Victor held me tightly, his arms wrapping around me with a desperate urgency that spoke volumes. I could feel his breath against my neck, warm and uneven, as he tried to calm down. I held onto him, feeling the weight of his concern and love.
"Don't ever scare me like that again," he whispered, his voice low and trembling slightly.
I nodded against his chest, feeling the thudding of his heart against my ear. "I won't. I promise."
We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, the chaos of the haunted maze fading into the background. In that moment, it was just the two of us, connected by something deeper than the fear and uncertainty that surrounded us.
But we couldn't stay like that forever. The maze was still there, waiting, and we had to get out. Reluctantly, I pulled back, looking up at Victor.
Victor's eyes softened as he looked down at me, his hands still resting gently on my shoulders. I could see the worry etched in his expression, but there was also a fierce determination. He took a deep breath, as if grounding himself, and then gave me a small, reassuring smile.
"Alright," he said, his voice steadier now. "We've got this. We just need to stay focused and watch each other's backs."
I nodded, feeling a newfound strength from his words and our connection. "Together," I agreed, echoing his sentiment.
He stood up, offering his hand to help me to my feet. As I placed my hand in his, I noticed how warm and solid it felt, grounding me in the moment. With a gentle tug, he pulled me up, and I found myself standing close to him once more. The proximity made my heart flutter, but I pushed aside the distraction. We had a maze to escape.
We turned our attention back to the maze entrance, the looming hedges casting eerie shadows in the dim light. The pathway ahead was narrow, with the high walls of foliage blocking out much of the sky. The only sound was the rustling of leaves in the wind, a sound that seemed to grow louder the deeper we ventured.
Victor tightened his grip on my hand as we walked forward. The maze seemed to twist and turn endlessly, each corner revealing another stretch of identical, ominous pathways. We tried to keep track of our movements, making mental notes of landmarks, but the disorienting nature of the maze made it difficult.
As we walked, the wind picked up again, this time accompanied by strange whispers that seemed to come from all around us. I felt a chill run down my spine, and I could tell Victor felt it too. He pulled me closer, his body a comforting presence against the creeping fear.
We continued to walk, turning corner after corner, when we suddenly came across a large, weathered stone statue in the middle of the path. It was an ancient figure, worn by time, with its face obscured by ivy and moss. In its hands, it held a broken hourglass, the sand spilling out onto the ground.
